


Clothes

by KissMeBefore_the_wolfbanesetsin



Series: Joscar [2]
Category: On My Block (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 11:53:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16387292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KissMeBefore_the_wolfbanesetsin/pseuds/KissMeBefore_the_wolfbanesetsin
Summary: Jamal is getting spare clothes for CesarOscar is there plotting





	Clothes

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote another thing  
> It's longer than the last one, wrote it in one sitting for the most part so sorry if it sucks  
> Hopefully you like it  
> As always comments, feedback, and kudos are all appreciated

It happens after the shooting.  
Ruby is recovering in the hospital, Olivia is lying cold on a slab and Oscar is pissed. Pissed at Cesar for not having the balls to take care of the problem when he should have, pissed at the guy Cesar was with for not checking to make sure Latrelle was dead, pissed at Latrelle for thinking he can take out the little brother of Oscar Dias.  
The Santos have been stationed at the Dias residence ever since everything went down. Guarding and figuring out a plan to attack. Cesar himself as well as Monse have been at the hospital ever since Ruby was admitted; wanting to be there for him when he wakes up to find his love gone. Ruby’s parents and grandma have decided to go home, staying in this hospital only making their anxiety worse.  
Jamal is stagnant.  
The bag of money is stashed in his room as he waits outside of Ruby’s hospital room. He and the gang left each other on more than a bad note and now there’s nothing but awkward silence that fills the air.  
“How is he?” Jamal asks, his shoulder leaning against the door. Monse looks up, her eyes going from the last reminisce of dirt on Jamal’s clothes to his face. There are a million things that Monse wants to say to him. Almost all of them being “Sorry” But it almost feels wrong to talk in a time like this so she offers him a quiet smile and a shrug of her shoulders.  
“He’s not out of the woods yet, but he seems to be getting better” Cesar notes.  
Jamal silently nods. The beeping of the machines coupled with the various paging of various doctors over the intercom begins to make Jamal antsy.  
“You guys should go home. Get some rest” Jamal suggests. Cesar’s eyes look down. The impending hell storm of anger that will no doubt befall him once he walks through his front door makes him uneasy.  
“I’m good. But, can you do me a favor and bring me some clothes?” It doesn’t take long for Jamal to agree. Anything to get him away from the beeping.  
“Be back in a little bit”  
It only takes Jamal ten minutes to actually reach Cesar’s house. Two overly muscley Santos stand guard at the bottom of the steps. The guns in their waistbands shine in the sun.  
“Um, hi? I’m a friend of Cesar’s- you probably know that or maybe you don’t I mean not to say you’re not smart i’m sure you are both very intelligent men, anyway he sent me to get some clothes for him is that okay? I mean, if you’re in the middle of some tactical Santos meeting I can come back if that’s better for you-” ranting. Not good.  
The guards exchange glances, one begins to make a move towards Jamal when the front door swings open.  
“What’s the problem?” Oscar’s voice sounds deeper than usual.  
“Hey, Oscar um Cesar wanted me to get some clothes for him.” Jamal’s arm raises in a stiff wave.  
Oscar makes a motion for him to come inside and Jamal swears he’s never run up stairs so fast. When he steps foot into the house, the couches and coffee table are strewn with discarded guns and pieces of paper. Jamal begins to make a beeline for Cesar's room when something clips his ankle, sending him tumbling to the floor. He looks back to see he’s fell over none other than a rifle. His eyes begin to widen.  
“You okay?” Oscar asks, maneuvering over the guns as if he’s walked over these types of land mines before. Oscar extends his hand down, bringing Jamal up. It’s only a second that they stay like that but the tension increases almost instantly.  
Jamal clears his throat and steps back.  
“I’m just gonna-”he makes a notion towards Cesar’s room and he scampers off.  
He’s gotten together some underwear and pants when he hears Oscar yell.  
“How the fuck did you lose him? That’s all I asked you to do was to make sure he doesn’t leave and you’re dumbass can’t even do that?” Oscar’s voice is loud and when Jamal peaks out he can make out that Oscar is talking over the phone.  
“Find him” Oscar hangs up, yells a curse word in Spanish and chucks his phone across the room. Jamal jumps.  
Jamal watches as Oscar slumps onto his couch. His hands going up to rub at his head. After a few seconds Jamal swears he hears Oscar sniffle. The urgency for Jamal to get out of the house seems much more pertinent now and he grabs anything else that resembles clothes and stuffs it in a spare bag.  
“I got everything.” Jamal says. Oscar sits quietly.  
“So, I guess I’ll just go then” Jamal makes his way to the front door. He’s turning the door knob when Oscar sits up. 

“How is he?” Oscar asks, the roughness that was once in his voice, fading. Jamal has to mentally ask himself just who it is Oscar is asking about. Ruby or Cesar. Jamal figures it’s the latter.  
Jamal’s hand closes the front door as he lets his feet carry him over to the couch. The spot that isn’t covered in scattered plans and papers lets Jamal make himself at home. 

“He’s okay. He and monse are watching over Ruby” Jamal’s shoulders have yet to de-tense as he sits next to Oscar. 

“He’s scared.” Oscar says. 

“Yeah, we're all scared of losing Ruby” Jamal says, his tone decreasing more and more whenever he mentions his friend. 

“Nah, he’s scared of me” Whenever Oscar’s name came up in their group, Jamal noticed how a small wave of anxiousness washed over Cesar before he found a way to calm himself down. Oscar himself was nothing but a dark shadow in Jamal’s life growing up. A sort of reminder that Cesar actually did have some sort of parental figure in his life. Oscar always came and went faster than Jamal’s bout with puberty. 

Jamal watches as Oscar seems to lose focus of his surroundings. Sees his eyes trained on the coffee table in front of him, a mugshot of Latrelle sprawled out. Jamal watches as Oscar’s fingers tense into a fist and the air seems thicker in this house. 

“He’s not scared of you. He’s probably just scared of the whole situation.” Jamal notes and maybe he’s right. But he’s probably wrong. Jamal’s always wrong. Oscar scoffs and wipes at his face before putting his feet on top of Latrelle’s face and lays back into his couch. Jamal has relaxed a bit next to him; stretching his body out more as Oscar’s hand ghosts over his own before landing a few inches away.  
Jamal feels a chill run down his spine.  
They sit in silence as time passes. Whether too slow or too fast, Jamal isn’t quite sure. But, he’s stuck between wondering if he should leave or not and Cesar hasn’t texted him to ask where he is so he figures he’s okay. So, Jamal shifts in his seat.  
“Are you okay?” Jamal asks. It’s a question that makes Oscar turn his head. The question “Are you okay?” has always been asked after a huge event in Oscar’s life. 

It was asked when Oscar’s dad got sent to prison for the first time 

It was asked when their mom OD’ed for the last time

It was asked when Oscar was crowned King and afterwards had bruises littering his body. 

Oscar had always replied with a broken nod, a shrug of his shoulders, and a clearing of his throat. Always ready to take on the next opponent.  
It was no different this time.  
What was different, was what Jamal said next.  
“Don’t lie” It’s quick, quiet. But bold. Jamal doesn’t know what possessed him to ask such a thing and even more so to demand that the older of the two tell him the truth. Oscar owes nothing to Jamal. His debt to him went away with Roller world.  
Oscar is staring at Jamal, his eyes piercing and Jamal wishes he would go back to staring aimlessly at the table. But Jamal isn’t backing down. His phone has yet to ring and he’s beginning to wonder what is taking Cesar so long to check up on him.  
Jamal watches as Oscar’s upper body moves closer to him. Watches as his feet stay planted on the ground, a .45 lays next to them.  
“Why are you here?” Oscar asks and Jamal stammers. The bag of Cesar’s clothes is forgotten on the floor as Jamal begins to backtrack.  
“Cesar-“he clears his throat “um he’s at the hospital and wanted me to get-“his hands point towards the bag. Oscar’s breath begins to feel hot against him and he’s trying his best to not let out a breath.  
Jamal’s eyes wonder downward to where Oscar’s hand is almost on top of his own and the air only gets thicker and thicker as time passes.  
Jamal’s throat begins to feel like a desert in 2000 degree heat and no amount of throat clearing can cure it. Oscar is basically on top of Jamal, his other arm entrapping Jamal in between himself and the couch.  
“What are you doing?” Jamal asks. His voice barely above a whisper as if this house was filled with people.  
Oscar asks again  
“Why are you here?” His voice matches Jamal’s. Soft and quiet as if they’re teenagers trying not to wake their sleeping parents.  
They’re stuck in this position for what seems like forever, neither one of them bold enough to make a move.  
Banging on the front door pulls them apart.  
Someone yells from the other side, Latrelle’s name leaves their mouth and Oscar eyes go wide.  
He sits up. Straightens his back as if Jamal was the next opponent he has to face.  
He’s back to the stone cold gang leader as he opens the door.  
“You found him?”


End file.
